


Come Back

by Chaotic_Dawn



Category: One Piece
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 07:32:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5239898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaotic_Dawn/pseuds/Chaotic_Dawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When reality is too hard to handle, sometimes dreams make it worse. Yet even still it’s easier to cling to them and hide away for a moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Back

**Author's Note:**

> Be... be gentle please? ^^;  
> First One Piece fic and I hope I'll do more, I'm just so afraid so messing up personalities and all that and OOC-nees that's way too OOC. Because all these precious little babies are too precious. /ah nostalgia/
> 
> Ahem.. Anyways. You may take it how you'd like! owo Although I certainly ship them so that's how I take it.  
> Takes place: Canon after Dressrosa (just for clarification)

Trafalgar Law considers himself intelligent and strategic – careful not to let his emotions influence him where they would be unwanted. At least, that was until he had to come face to face with that… _demon_. But for it all to be so final, so done, and yet everything is just started; he finds himself exhausted.

Tired even though he's only just waking up, he drags an arm up to drape over his eyes. He just wants one more minute – one more second even. His body still hasn't full recovered and he's thankful that he at least has a room to himself. Even if the others were more keen on making sure Luffy was satisfied far before him.

A heavy sigh slips from his lips as he removes his arm, although he keeps his eyes closed. His fingers, with the back of his hand and fingers stark with black ink, run up through his short, black hair. It's as his fingertips hit the bed with a thunk that a thought crosses his mind, one that makes his chest burn.

Law misses _him_.

"What's wrong Law?"

It all hits him like a ton of bricks to the chest and he can't move fast enough. Or perhaps he's moving too slow. All he knows is he's sitting upright before his body can adjust and his head swims from the movement. The thin blankets slide down to pool around his waist; revealing the stark black tattoos covering his chest and shoulders. And yet he doesn't feel cold from the sudden lack of covering.

At least, not while he can smell the smoke as it drifts over to him. The tall man puts out his cigarette and Law finds himself relieved that nothing catches on fire in the process. Maybe even a little proud of the other man's lack of clumsiness in that instant. But even still he can't get the lump out of his throat.

After all, there _he_ is. Standing there like nothing has changed and nothing ever happened. The dark mantle that hangs off of those broad shoulders makes the white shirt with pink hearts stand out all the more. Golden tresses still peak out from under the red hood with strings that end in the shape of hearts against his chest.

Oh and those eyes – the brown, gentle eyes that welcome him like the waves of a calm sea lapping at the sides of the ship. Orbs that he's wished he could see any other time than when he closes his own golden eyes. A broad smile curves onto the man's countenance and the red makeup around his mouth and the blue around his right eye accommodates it.

Law's heart feels as though it'll stop beating, caught between going too fast and too slow at the sight of this impossibility. His tongue feels like lead in his mouth as he struggles to even force his hands to work. But they're useless at his sides, fingers loosely grasping at the blanket covering his legs.

The smile on that more than perfect face dims down and it takes Law's breath away on top of it all. Those long legs stride toward him – easily closing the distance of the small room. Yet Law can't find where to focus his eyes; the only part of his body that he seems to be able to move freely. Up from the white pants to the dipping collar of the shirt then finally to those eyes.

"Do you...remember me?"

The worried tone kills him and he forces the words out, not realizing that his body follows his notion. Law stands upright with a start and the covers drop to the ground around his bare feet. "Of course I do!"

What he really wants to say is; " _How_ could _I forget?_ "

But those words stay buried in his chest as he swallows hard and tries to figure this out. Which is impossible as the blond smiles again, relieved to hear that. "I'm glad."

Those shoulders, once he thought so strong and impervious, sag slightly as he reaches forward. Law doesn't realize they're so close until he puts his hands out on instinct, palms pressing against a strong chest. He tilts his head up just in time for their foreheads to meet, soft and careful.

Their eyes lock together in a vice grip that neither wants to break. Law's brows furrow together as slender fingers grip at his shoulders and slide away before arms then wrap around him, drawing him close. The embrace is one that has him leaning against the much taller man. He melts into those arms that have done nothing but shield him, breathing in the scent he's missed so much.

Law's hands dare to slide down and around, wrapping his arms around the other in return. His fingers fist into the back of the heart adorned shirt as he tries to absorb every ounce of the blond's presence. He wants to tell him he's always remembered him no matter how much he wishes he could forget it all sometimes – when the weight of everything threatens to crush him. He aches to say that no matter what he does, he always does it in _his_ name in an effort to honor and hold those memories close.

And yet it's fitting that Law isn't the first to speak, the first to do anything. The grip around his lean frame tightens and one hand comes up, twining fingers into his hair. The touch is far too soft, to the point where Law can almost forget those fingertips are brushing his scalp.

But in that one space of time, everything is fine. He's _back_ and everything's _fine_. Which is why a bundle of concern and fear grows in the pit of his stomach as he feels the taller man shift. The tight hold is kept just so as he feels a light chuckle reverberate through the other, causing Law to imagine that infectious smile all over again. It's there, he knows it, even if he can't see. it.

"I love you, Law."

Those words, they make his chest constrict and his heart wants to beat out of his chest – the emotions well up inside to the point where he thinks he'll just implode on himself. Even more so as once those three little words resonate in him, the man is pressing his lips to the top of his head in a sweet little kiss before burying his face in Law's tresses.

And so he whispers in return, whispers what he never got a chance to all those years ago when he wasn't allowed to – forced to leave the blond's side without looking back.

"Cora I… I love you too."

It's only then that Trafalgar Law jolts upright in bed, his heart beating out of his chest and tears streaming down his face. There's no noise that accompanies them. Only the harsh, panted breathing he manages to force out as the liquid drips down his face. He can't catch his breath and all he can do is curl inward as he brings up his knees.

It's hard and it hurts when his forehead bumps down against his jean-clad knees. The material is rough and irritates his sweat slicked skin. But he doesn't care. There's a pain in his chest that feels worse than ever. Because he knows this shouldn't be how things are. Rocinante – _Cora_ – should be here and everything should have worked out.

Law grits his teeth yet doesn't flinch when his jaw begins to ache. There's no more sleeping for him tonight, he'll stay like this – huddled over and clinging onto himself. It's all he can do when he can still _smell_ the harsh smoke of his cigarettes and hear Rocinante's laugh ringing pleasantly in his ears.

No… he won't sleep he tells himself. And yet he finds he gives in for a moment and lays back, hoping – _wishing_ – that it won't be a dream the next time he wakes up. Although knowing at the same time that it's all just a false hope granted by a brief moment of release – something that will hurt to hide down deep inside come morning.


End file.
